


The Nature of Thieves

by Twiliger



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, ZoSan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twiliger/pseuds/Twiliger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Sanji's day couldn't get any worse, he's pit pocketed by a punk on the street. When he turns to chase after the man, he has no idea how much his life is about to change. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Pit Pocket

The ominous black clouds above head threatened to burst open at any second, casting the city in a melancholic gray. Sanji rolled his cigarette from side to side in his mouth anxiously as he walked down the crowded sidewalk. It was five o’clock, coming close to the dinner rush and Sanji wasn’t in the kitchen.

_Get the hell out of my kitchen with that plague you brat! You’re going to contaminate the food!”_

A sharp and swift kick from a metal prosthetic leg mercilessly followed those words; Sanji’s lower thigh ached slightly from the memory. Sanji sniffled his runny nose miserably, shifting the groceries in his arms slightly.

He didn’t really need to get groceries, he just didn’t have anything else to do and his apartment was starting to give him cabin fever. Being the Sous Chef of a five-star restaurant didn’t give Sanji a lot of free time, and his forward personality that caused most people to steer clear of him, which meant he didn’t really have friends, which meant no one to pass the time with. Though he didn’t mind so much, most people were assholes anyways.

Sanji groaned as rain began to gently mist down: it was an innocent facade, those menacing clouds would burst open any second now with a complete downpour.

Coming the opposite way ahead of him was some ratty-looking punk with a black bandana covering the top of his head down to his scowling eyebrows that shadowed his eyes, his path about to make collusion with Sanji’s, and rigid posture showed no signs of changing his course. Sanji quickly pivoted on his heel to try to dodge out of the way but in the busy crowd there was no stopping the guy. The two roughly bumped into each other, the punk pushing his shoulder into Sanji’s chest, his hand just brushing Sanji’s hip. Then the man shoved Sanji aside growling,

“Watch it!” In a deep, rough voice. Sanji huffed and muttered a ‘fuck you asshole’ and kept walking until he felt a slight bouncing on his leg. He looked down and saw that his wallet chain was cleanly cut through and the wallet that was supposed to be on the end of it was gone. Sanji turned on heel as blood immediately began to boil: that punk had pit-pocketed him!

“Get back here you shitty bastard!” Sanji screamed, he could feel an insistent pounding on his right temple and his blood thumping in his ears. The man looked back, dark eyes wide and startled, and then took off sprinting. Sanji clutched his bags tighter and opened his stride in pursuit.

“Oh no you don’t, you fucker!” Sanji yelled. The punk was shoving people out of his way and into Sanji’s path, but it was no use as Sanji was easily gaining on him. With one final leap Sanji was right behind the man. Sanji lashed out his right leg, causing the punk to yelp in surprise when Sanji’s foot connected with his lower rib cage and effectively threw the man into a muddy alley.

Sanji entered the alley, gently setting his groceries on the lid of a dumpster. The rain was coming down harder now, puddles beginning to form in the alley, raindrops working to slowly plaster Sanji’s hair to his face.

Sanji realized he’d dropped his cigarette in the chase and pulled out a new one, keeping his eyes on the punk, who was currently hugging his side and trying to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him, his black bandana had fallen off from the impact, revealing a head of short green hair. As Sanji lit up the man staggered to his feet.

“Give me back my wallet shit face.”

He took a few steps closer to the reeling thief, reduced the width of his stance and shifted his weight to his left foot. When the man looked up, Sanji could see that he was missing an eye: a large gash ran through his left eye vertically, cutting from above the eyebrow to the middle of his cheek. It was messy and new and looked poorly treated, without doubt infected. His other eye was dark and currently fixed on Sanji’s, daring him to do something. Sanji let his temper throttle back a little, despite how much that challenging look made him want to do otherwise.

“Look I just want my wallet back, okay? I’m not calling the police or some shit, I just want it back.” The thief was still panting, his face an unusual pale and gaunt. The man sighed and then began rummaging through his pockets.

“Fuck, Blondie, you really did a number on me.” The thief said with a groan.

“Yeah? Well maybe it’ll teach you no to steal.” The other man just chuckled.

“Psh, whatever. You’re lucky I’m not in a fighting mood, I could leave you dead in a ditch curly brow.” The words lacked conviction, and the man started to sway on his feet.

“Curly brow? Oi fuck you, moss head. You couldn’t fight shit right now.”

“Moss head?...” His voice was quiet and raspy. “Yeah…. Maybe you’re right, I feel like shit… I think I’m gonna pass now…” The man’s voice trailed off and his eye rolled up, collapsing onto the ground face first. Sanji rushed over, bending onto one knee to turn the man onto his back. He was unconscious but breathing, blood now streaming down his face from his nose from the impact of the ground.

“Well shit.” Sanji muttered. He looked behind him, but no one in the passing crowds so much as glanced at them. Sanji ran a hand through his wet hair and released a deep breath.

“What the fuck am I going to do you, moss head?” He considered leaving the guy, but then tossed the notion away as it would eat away at his conscious forever: he liked to think he wasn’t so cold hearted. Sanji picked up the bandana that had been cast aside and began to softly wipe away the blood on the punk’s face. A groan suddenly escaped from the man’s lips, he brought a shaking hand to his head.

“Ugh…. Fuck…” He barely whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Hey man, listen, I’m going to call an ambulance okay? You really need to go to the hospital-” The thief tried to sit up but failed.

“What? No no no no… I can’t…. I can’t go to the hospital… No hospital….” He was already slipping in and out of consciousness again. With a frustrated growl, Sanji hoisted the man up slowly, and then had him lean heavily on Sanji’s frame with an arm around his shoulder. The rain was a complete and utter downpour now, making it difficult to see through. Once he made it out of the alley and to the edge of the sidewalk, Sanji hailed down a cab.

“Where are we going….” Mumbled the moss head.

“Just get in.” Sanji said as he carefully placed the man in the car, shut the door, walked around to the other side and got in, groceries forgotten. The cab driver turned around to look at the delirious still bleeding man in the back seat.

“Is…. Is he okay? I don’t want any blood on my seats.” The driver questioned. Sanji pulled out the bloody bandana from his pocket and shoved parts of it up the punk’s nose in a weak attempt to stop the flow.

“He’s fine, just fell and bumped his shitty nose. Get us to 28th and Merry.” The driver just shrugged and turned around. Sanji then pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It rang for a while until someone finally picked up.

“Hello?” A nervous but familiar voice answered.

“Hey Bepo, its Sanji. Is Law there? I need a favor.

 

* * *

 

 

Sanji added in some more dried basil into the boiling pot on the stove, stirring it in slowly with one hand and then reaching for salt with the other. Behind him he could hear the sound of Law closing up his medical kit and the faint sound of the thief snoring on his couch. Sanji didn’t like owing people favors, especially his slightly sadistic old college roommate, but he hadn’t really known where else to turn.

“So… He’s gonna be okay, right?” Sanji asked, keeping his eyes on the pot of soup.

“Yeah yeah he should be okay. Now that his eye wound has been properly treated he should be fine. I can’t believe he had been walking at some point: carrying a nasty infection AND walking pneumonia. Like some fucking badass in the movies.” Sanji rolled his eyes at that, sniffled his running nose again and coughing weakly, listening to Law continue on.

“Seriously though, did you get a chance to get a good look at this guy? He’s covered in scars; a lot of them look pretty new too. Like this massive one on his chest: where the fuck do you get a wound like this?” Law almost sounded impressed. “Sanji-ya, why the hell did you let this guy into your apartment? Didn’t you say he tried to rob you or some shit?”     

Sanji sighed and turned the soup down to a low simmer, and took a drag out of the battered cigarette hanging from his lips. He stepped cautiously onto the carpeted space that transitioned from tiled kitchen to living room with his hands shoved weakly into his pockets.

“I don’t know why… I mean he asked me to not take him to a hospital.” Sanji sniffled weakly.

“Oh well by all means listen to the deranged pit-pocket. You don’t even know his fucking name!”

“Well, what would you have done?!” Sanji huffed. Law raised an exasperated eyebrow that clearly said what he would have done, causing Sanji balk at him. “Like hell I would just leave him there!” Law just shrugged in response, casually heading to the door, stopping as he opened it slightly.

“Whatever Sanji-ya, do what you will. But be careful.” Law warned lowly, and then sauntered out. Sanji expelled an anxious puff of smoke from his lungs and wandered over to the man sleeping on his couch.

 He was sprawled ungracefully with one arm hanging off the couch; his shirtless torso slowly rose and fell with each heavy snore. Law was right: the man was covered in scars. The eye wound was completely covered at the moment with gauze, but the scar that would be left on his face couldn’t even compare to that on his chest. A long, jagged line lacerated across the man diagonally from shoulder to his, gnarled flesh was woven all along the line like a poorly knit sweater.

The man was built like a warrior, scars and all: Sanji hadn’t had a chance to really see it out in the alley but damn this guy was huge. With a sharp jaw and defined brow line, along with an exotic golden skin tone, this thief looked like he belonged as a fucking gladiator of Rome. Well, least a sick gladiator: his skin clung to him in an unnatural way that hinted malnourishment and simply body exhaustion.

Sanji hadn’t realized he had leaned in so close until his shins bumped the base of the couch, his face only a few feet hovering over the green haired man’s. After a slight tickle in his nose, Sanji whipped his head to the side and sneezed painfully to the side, sniffling weakly in the after-shock. The man below him jumped with a start, his eye snapped open and Sanji felt a crushing grip on his wrist.

“That hurts you fucker!”Sanji shouted and he struggled to free his arm. The man squinted his functioning eye and then widened it as he refocused on Sanji.

“Oh it’s you.” He said in a disinterested voice, dropping his hand from Sanji’s wrist.

“Wow, nice shitty gratitude, you green bastard.” Sanji jeered. The man just snorted and scrunched his face up at he stretched out his limbs, mouth opening into a ridiculously large yawn.

“Where the hell am I?” The thief mumbled scratching at his belly absentmindedly as he wobbled trying to sit up. Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Great manners you got there shit face. You’re in my apartment.”

“Where are my clothes? Who’s are these?” The man said in a groggy voice, pulling at the hem of the grey sweatpants he was currently wearing. That carefree voice that was starting to piss Sanji off.

“They were all wet dumbass; I’m lending you some of mine. You’re welcome for saving you from catching hypothermia. Oh, and you’re for preventing your sorry ass of dying from infection.” The man seemed to ponder that for a moment, his confused expression tried to meet with a stoic one and it just left a mess on his battered face. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks for not leaving me in an alley… And thanks for patching me up… And uh for not sicking the cops on me... Also sorry I tried to rob you. Jeeze, I kinda owe you a lot, huh?”

“Yeah you do shit head. You hungry?” Sanji huffed. The man narrowed his eye but nodded his head none the less. Sanji briskly walked into the kitchen and in a matter of seconds had two bowls of the soup ready and placed on the coffee table in front of the couch. Sanji sat himself down on the love-seat opposing the leather couch, picking up his bowl and looking at the thief expectantly, who in turn cautiously picked up his bowl.

“You’re  being way too nice to a guy who tried to steal from you. What’s the catch, blondie? I am so not becoming your sex slave for the next few days.” The punk deadpanned. Sanji choked on his soup.

“Jesus fucking Christ you are not- just- oh hell no!” He sputtered. “Secondly, my name’s Sanji, not blondie.” The man smirked slightly.

“I’m Zoro.”

“What the fuck kind of name is that?”Quipped Sanji.

“What the fuck kind of name is Sanji?” Zoro snapped back. Sanji glared at him.

“A perfectly fine name, fuck you very much!”

“Tsk. Says the guy with dumb curly eye brows.”

“Leave my eye brows alone, shitty moss head.” Zoro just chuckled slightly, finally picked up his spoon to eat. Sanji just raised his eye brows in the smuggest look he could muster when he saw the look of pleasant shock on Zoro’s face. Sanji loved the way watching people eat his food made his insides grow warm and gooey; he felt like his whole body was glowing with pride. Within minutes, the moss head’s bowl was completely empty.

“There’s more if you want it.” Sanji said with a grin. Zoro’s face lit up, but quickly pushed his face into neutral and shrugged his shoulders.

“I mean… Sure if you want it gone so bad.” The thief had another two bowls.

“So…” Sanji began, watching Zoro stretch out contently before him. “Do I at least get to know how you got that shitty scar on your face?”

“A fight.” Zoro replied nonchalantly. Sanji rolled his eyes.

“So fucking descriptive. I mean like, where? With who? What the fuck do you do in life that leads to that kind of injury? Speaking of what you do in life, why do you pit pocket? You homeless or something? And how did you cut my wallet chain like that without me noticing?” Zoro just shrugged off Sanji’s barrage of questions.

“Oh no, come on marimo, you owe me a fucking lot. I at least get a story out of this shit.” Sanji gripped. Zoro sat up slightly with a deep frown.

“Marimo?” Zoro repeated stupidly. Sanji smirked; he liked the way Zoro’s frown twitched ever so slightly as he said the nickname.

“Yeah, you know, because of your shitty hair. It looks like those little moss balls, from Japan, you know what I’m talking about? They look just like you, marimo!”

“Dart brow.” Zoro sneered.

“Real mature, really, name calling? What are you, four?”

“You started it.” The look on Zoro’s face was killing Sanji, it made him want to kick the living daylights out of the moron.

“I so did not!”

“Pshhh… Pansy.” Sanji stood up, stalking over to where the marimo was sitting.

“Who you calling a pansy, jerk-wad? I will kick your sorry ass so hard you won’t be able to shit for weeks.”

“You’re all bark and no bite.”

The words just stuck a chord with Sanji. He didn’t mean to snap, it just happened. Like a light switch had been flicked on in his head.

Sanji’s body moved on its own: his left leg struck own, aiming for Zoro’s surprised mossy head. The other man ducked down and grabbed Sanji’s ankle, pushing him back and standing to follow up with a right hook. Sanji took the blow to his left side below the ribs, trying his best to absorb the punch and retaliated with his knee to Zoro’s stomach. Zoro’s torso curled in on itself against Sanji’s knee.

The moss head let out a feral growl and grabbed the front of Sanji’s collar, using superior upper body strength and weight to toss Sanji to the ground and land on top of him. Zoro used both hands to pin the blond’s above his head while he straddled his hips to effectively pin him. Sanji struggled for a moment but it was no use. They were nose to nose, both gasping for breath with their eyes locked on one another.

Sanji sharply blew into the man’s face, causing him shut his eye and lean up. The man above him gave a confused grin that slowly turned into a low laugh, and he rolled off of Sanji who was beginning to catch the infectious laugh beside him on the floor.

“You are so fucking weird blondie.” Sniggered Zoro. Sanji pushed the man’s shoulder slightly.

“I know, what the fuck is wrong with me?”

“What the hell was that fighting style? You kept your hands in your pockets, what the hell?!”

“It’s like… A mix of Capoeira and Savate, and I don’t use my hands. I picked it up from my old man.” Sanji mused.

“Why the hell wouldn’t you use your hands? That is so retarded.” Grumbled Zoro. Sanji shot a small kick to the other man’s shin.

“Because I’m a chef, shit face. I can’t hurt my hands, they’re important to me.”

“Huh. Well, you’re still weird.” Sanji turned on his side and rested his head in the crook of his arm.

“So what about you? Where’d you learn to fight?” The man looked slightly off into the distance, his brows furrowed into a scowl.

“I was kinda always a fighter, I guess. I trained and grew up in a dojo as a competing swordsman.”

“No shit? That’s pretty cool. So you trained in like Kendo and shit?” Sanji pulled a cigarette from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth, his eyes studying the contemplative marimo beside him.

“Yeah, I fought with katanas, three of them.”

“What do you mean, three of them?”

“I fought with three katanas.”

“Bull shit. How the fuck do you fight with three katanas? Is that even legal in a match?” Sanji cried incredulously.

“One in each hand and one in my mouth.” Zoro explained simply.

“You are so lying: you cannot fight with a sword in your mouth.” Sanji guffawed. Zoro just raised an eye brow.

“Wanna bet?”

“Holy shit you’re serious!” Sanji exclaimed, and then took a drag from his cigarette. “That is fucking weird man, I’ve never heard of anyone fighting like that.”

“Well I did.”

“You ‘did’? Why not anymore?” Sanji frowned. Zoro let out a heavy breath and looked up at the ceiling.

“Things got… Complicated.... I don’t fight like that anymore.” His voice was heavy and hoarse, Zoro looked away slightly. The air around them felt thicker, like it was weighing down on them like a blanket. Sanji sat up, ruffling his hair back into place.

“You want anything to drink.” He asked as he stood up.

“Anything with alcohol in it.”

“I don’t think you should be drinking… I mean you were just knocked out for a while and your body-”

“Shut it I’m fine.”

Sanji just shrugged in response and headed to his fridge, the swordsman followed behind. As he handed Zoro a bottle, he was pleased to see color coming back into the man’s face, he was definitely doing a lot better than yesterday. Sanji stopped to wonder shy he cared so much; the guy had tried to rob him after all. Sanji couldn’t quite pin what it was but something drew him to the swordsman: he wasn’t afraid around Zoro like he knew he should be, he had never really met anyone like him.

Sanji’s musings were cut short when there was loud banging at his front door and Sanji froze. No one ever came to Sanji’s apartment to visit. Ever.

The banging didn’t stop even after a few seconds; it continued to grow louder and fiercer, shaking the frame. Zoro put a finger up to his mouth and motioned for Sanji to come next to him, to which Sanji cautiously obliged. The swordsman gently guided him down with him to crouch behind the kitchen counter, hidden from the door.

“It’s probably nothing.” Zoro whispered slowly.

“If it’s nothing then why are we hiding?!” Sanji whispered back frantically.

“Uh… Well… If someone I know may have seen me come here we could have a problem.” Sanji opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by a loud ‘CRACK!’. Sanji dropped his jaw in horror as his front door flew by his hiding spot and crashed into the kitchen wall in front of him, exploding into a splintery mess.


	2. The Honorary Thief

The room was still as Sanji stared at the splintery mess before him in horror; no matter how much he tried he couldn't get his panicked limbs to budge, like he was glued to the floorer to Zoro, .

"Zorooooo?"The shrill high voice echoed into Sanji's apartment and ricocheted off the walls of his ear canal painfully. Sanji looked ovwhose face had fallen from on edge to downright irritated, his visible eye twitching slightly. "Zoooooooroooooooo?"

Zoro's face scrunched up awkwardly like he had taken a bite out of something sour and gritted his teeth.

"Roronoa, we know you are here." Called a deep, chilling voice that sounded like it came from the most sinister Disney villain ever. Zoro's eyes widened, his body still and intense. Suddenly, there was a loud crack of thunder and the apartment lights went dead, leaving them nearly in the dark. Sanji could make out the outline of Zoro's sharp jaw and the whites of his eyes, the slight tilt in his shoulders from his poor posture in the darkness.

"Come out come out!" The girl's voice shrieked, Zoro's eyes went cross in frustration, Sanji could feel the irritation coming off Zoro in waves.

"What are you doing here, Mihawk?" Zoro growled finally, slowly rising, gesturing for Sanji to follow.

"Why didn't you answer the door in the first place?" That cold voice sent shivers down Sanji's spine.

"I thought you were someone else." Zoro replied bluntly.

Sanji gradually stood to find two figures stood in his living room waiting, their figures silhouetted by the cold light spilling in from the battered door frame. Rain was beginning to tumble down from the dark clouds outside.

"What happened to your eye?! So not cute!" The girl exclaimed loudly. She shifted from side to side, restlessly hugging and pulling at the ugly beat up teddy bear in her arms. Zoro lifted his hand to gently tug at the cotton that currently covered the eye.

"Nothing. I'm fine." He shrugged off the question, which clearly agitated the fidgety girl more.

"And who are you?" Sanji realized the question was directed at him, now staring into the owlish eyes of the gothic girl.

"Who am I? I own this damn apartment, thank you very much!" He bristled. Sanji then found a pair of sharp yellow eyes pining him to the floor.

"Ah, so you're the one with the hit on his head." The dark man stated.

"What?" He heard Zoro growl, who took a cautious step forward, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head suspiciously.

"What do you mean; he has a hit on him?" Sanji didn't like that anxious tone of voice. The tall man just nodded, offering no clarification or explanation. The tension in the small room was bore down on Sanji, so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"Oh yeah, we saw it on the door before Mihawk cut it down." The girl piped in. "This guy has a hit on him, not sure by who though." Zoro's face fell, casting Sanji a nervous glance.

"Hit?! What the hell does that mean?" Sanji squeaked. His fingernails dug into his palm, he chewed on his abused lips anxiously.

"It's time to go back, Roronoa. And then you owe us an explanation of what happened." The dark man, Mihawk, said sinisterly, completely ignoring Sanji.

Zoro took another step towards the intruders, then looked back to where Sanji stood, a conflicted expression on his face. Sanji licked his chapped lips, suddenly wishing he had a cigarette between them.

"Roronoa, we do not have time for this, we need to depart before-" A screech of tires interrupted Mihawk, who whipped around to look through the beaten front door frame. Two large black SUVs pulled up in front of the apartment complex.

"Of course." Mihawk mumbled to himself. "Perona, go out the back and get the car. Really, Roronoa, this is why we should have left earlier."

Bullets rained into the house with a roar, plaster and wood exploded onto the floor, the shots shook the entire home. Sanji felt Zoro grab onto his wrist tightly, pulling him away from the door.

A force rammed into Sanji like a high speed car, ripping him away from Zoro and finding himself staring up at the ceiling as bullets continued to fly above him. Sanji swore he heard Zoro yell something that sounded like his name as a searing pain tore at Sanji's mid-section. The pain paralyzed him, his mouth hung open but the screams remained locked in his aching chest.

Zoro appeared above him, face to face with Sanji, his dark steel eyes searching him with a worried expression.

Sanji was only vaguely aware that the gunfire was dying down, his heartbeat drowning out most other sounds in his ears. The bitter taste of metal and smoke met his tongue and clung to his pallet. The pain in his abdomen was beginning to match the painful beating of his heart as the world was getting fuzzier by the second. The yelling and crashing outside his home seemed distant. He could feel swordsman's grip tightly clasped onto his hand, like a life line, Zoro was the only one keeping him anchored in this frantic reality.

"It's gonna be okay, shit cook. Shit cook? Oi Sanji!"

 

The whole world was shaking, vibrating against Sanji's ear like an earthquake. His head was spinning, opening his eyes felt impossible. Smooth leather brushed against his flat hand, his legs were scrunched up against a cold metal door, the coppery taste of adrenaline collected on his tongue along with the strange bubblegum-diesel concoction scent that coated the air.

"Roronoa, you can't be serious."

"I'm not ditching him."

"Zoroooo why do you care so much about this guy?" Sanji felt a pointed finger poke his cheek. "He's not even cute."

"None of your business you pink punk, keep your eyes on the road."

"Fine, whatever. Buuuuuut how are you even going to get him in? He's not a thief." Whatever Sanji's head was resting on shifted. His lungs were burning, each breath he took gurgled and threatened to choke him. Everything hurt, but slowly Sanji could feel an icy numbness starting to crawl through him.

"I know. You stay out of it witch, he's stolen something that'll get him in."

"Ohhh really? And what would that be?" Sanji felt a groan leave his lips as he blearily opened his eyes.

"Holy shit, cook! Hey, you with me? It's gonna be okay, I'm gonna get you a doctor and everything will be fine."

The world was spiraling out of control, his vision tunneled before giving way to nothing.

 

"Zoro! Where've you been, we've- You're covered in blood! What is going on?!" Sanji felt light, his body being jostled this way and that. "Who is that?!"

"Chopper I need your help, you've gotta fix him, we ran into some other thieves and he was shot it's really bad I couldn't stop the bleeding."

"Uh, lay him down over here! Have you been applying pressure to the wound?" From the back of his eyelids Sanji was blinded by white light, he would have groaned in pain but the noise was trapped in his throat.

"I did but it wasn't working, stuff just kept coming out, he's lost a lot of blood. What do I do, how can I help?" Something heavy pressed against the source of the pain, making Sanji feel the unnatural whole that was there in his gut.

"Pull out a bag of O negative blood from that fridge back there."

Sanji's slow heartbeat thudded lazily in his ears, he was so tired. He felt like he was hanging onto something. Why was he hanging on to something? He was too tired to hang on to anything. So he just let go.

 

It was the throbbing pain that woke him up, like it was pulling him out of a ditch, dragging him unwillingly into reality. There was pressure pushing against the pain, like it was trying to keep it from spilling out of him.

Wherever he was, it was quiet, still. It smelled like disinfectant and bleach. Sanji forced himself to open his heavy eyes to look up at a dirty white ceiling, it had that bumpy rough texture painted onto it. He wanted to drift back asleep, but the pain in his abdomen aggressively demanded he stay awake.

A door opened, followed by light footsteps. Sanji turned his head to see a young man, almost a kid, pace across the room to a metal desk, completely invested in a clip board in his hands. The boy was clearly a doctor of some sorts, maybe a premed student, from the way he was dressed. But what caught Sanji's attention was his nose: it was a bold blue, like the guy had a perpetual cartoonish cold.

Something caught in Sanji's lungs as he tried to sit up and he began to cough in raw and violent spasms, his whole gut screaming in protest.

"Oh my god you're awake!"

A soft small hand was suddenly at back, rubbing soothing circles, waiting for the coughing to subside. Sanji shuddered when a cold stethoscope pressed against his bare chest, his eyes lazily drifting up to look at the concerned face leaning over him.

"How do you feel? Slightly feverish? Head ache? Are you having trouble breathing?" His voice was small but confident, professional despite the sweet undertone.

"Ummm… Who are you exactly?" Sanji grit out, not liking his raspy tone.

The boy blinked twice before the question seemed to register.

"Oh my gosh where are my manners I'm Tony Drum, my friends call me Chopper!" He awkwardly carded a hand through his hair, his brown doe eyes looking anywhere but Sanji, like he was looking for a place to suddenly hide.

"So... Where the fuck am I?"

"Hmmm… You were unconscious most of the trip, weren't you?" Chopper pondered. "To put things simply, you're in my office. Can you remember what happened before you got here?"

Sanji's mind drew him back to his apartment, the smoke and gunfire.

"I-I was shot." Sanji muttered in disbelief, reaching down and just brushing the bandages on his belly. "Holy shit I was shot!"

"Indeed you were." Chopper nodded.

"I was shot." Sanji repeated. He thought back to the impact, being pulled away from Zoro and- Zoro! "That bastard! Where the hell is he!"

"Uh, who?"

"That shitty pick pocket, Zoro! He's the one that brought me here, wherever the fuck this is!"

"My office."

"Not helping!" Sanji snapped.

"I could go get him if you'd like?" Chopped offered.

"What?" He asked dumbly, the tenseness leaving his shoulders.

"I can bring him in here. He's out getting coffee or something so he should be nearby. But then again, it is  _Zoro_ , so he might be a little lost. Yeah no he's definitely lost, never mind he probably won't be back for a while, he has absolutely no sense of direction. One time, I just dropped him off at his house and the second he got out of my car-"

"You better not be talking about me."

"HOLY CRAP ZORO WHEN DID YOU GET HERE? I THOUGHT YOU WERE LOST FOR SURE!" Chopper squeaked.

Zoro shut the door behind him as he walked in. He was dressed differently since Sanji had last seen him: the sweatshirt was replaced with a smart and faded leather jacket over a white tee shirt, and he wore black pants tucked into battered combat boots. The bandages over his eye were looking better too, clearly he had the wound looked at from the way the coverings were so perfectly and precisely wrapped.

"Shut it, blue nose! My sense of direction is fine." His voice was aggressive but lacked any bite. He turned to face Sanji. "Good to see you're finally awake dart brow."

"What do you mean 'finally', bush brains?" Sanji sneered skeptically.

"You've been out for at least a solid, what, four days now?" Zoro shrugged, casually taking a seat in an empty chair.

"Four days?!" Sanji parroted indignantly, sitting up further in shock, only to be rewarded with a jolt of pain.

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing!" Chopper remarked, laying a hand on Sanji's chest to push him back against his pillow. "You've been in a fairly stable condition, but you're lucky you didn't die on the operating table!"

Sanji felt the air leave his lungs, leaving him stunned. He had been that close to death? Sanji wasn't one to dwell on his own mortality that often, but that's not to say he wasn't afraid of death. The idea that he nearly died as young as he is made him feel small, like his chest was shrinking: he wasn't sure if he was terrified or relieved.

"I'm sorry, that was unprofessional and insensitive." Chopper said in a small voice. Sanji offered a small shrug in response, excusing the doctor with a small wave of his hand, then went to give a pointed look to Zoro.

"Oi, moss head! What the hell?!" He angrily pawed at his pants, yanking out a pack of cigarettes that were buried in his pocket, to his dismay his lighter was missing. "Yo, doc, you got a light?"

The young doctor plucked away the cigarette Sanji had just placed in his mouth, wagging a free finger in Sanji's face.

"No way! You are not puffing that toxic shit into your body while you're in here!" For added measure, the frantic doctor tossed the cigarette into a nearby trash bin. Chopper paused after he did and turned, his thick eyebrows drawn up in sudden worry. "I- uh, sorry, I just…"

Sanji offered up his hands in a no offense taken gesture. "I get it, I get it. Doctor's orders or whatever." Chopper gave a relieved nod. "Anyways, as I was saying, what the fuck marimo?!"

"What did I do?" Zoro yelled backed, slouching into his chair with his arms crossed defensively over his chest. Out of Sanji's peripheral vision he saw Chopper slink out of the room quietly, the door clicking shut behind him.

"Don't give me that bullshit right now! Where the fuck am I? Why didn't you just take me to a hospital?" Sanji shouted, each word making his wound ache.

"I couldn't take you to a hospital, you'd get picked up there." He responded slowly, the bandages over his eye slightly obscured Zoro's expression, his narrow brows drawn together. Sanji took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What the hell happened back there? One second we're talking in my living room and the next my door is busted open and two strangers show up! Then there were guns and they were shooting at us, who the hell was that? Sanji rambled as one question led to another. He tapped his hand against the bed agitatedly, rolling his tongue in his mouth and missing the feeling of a cigarette between his lips. "And what the hell did you say was wrong with me? I have, like a, a hit on me?"

Zoro sighed and rubbed at the nape of his neck.

"You talk too much, blondie." Sanji swore he felt a vein burst somewhere along his temple, he grit his teeth as he resisted the urge to lash out at the snarky bastard. The pick pocket ran a hand through his hair, shaking the cropped green strands out before letting the hand fall roughly back into his lap.

"God, where do I start. I'm not the best with speaking and shit, so just bare with me..." He trailed off, his visible eye locked onto the floor. "The two people that came to your apartment are… Partners of mine, we work together sometimes. The tall guy, Mihawk, he's the one that broke your door. Sorry about that by the way."

"Alright, well if you work with those two, what was up with all the guns and shooting?" Sanji questioned as calmly as he could.

"They're definitely not with me. Mihawk and Perona came for me, not you. The other guys that showed up were some other thieves coming for  _you_ , since you have a hit on you."

"Yeah, you keep saying that. What the fuck does that mean? Like, Mafia shit?" Sanji gnawed at his lower lip, his eyes burrowing into Zoro's forehead trying to will the man to make eye contact with him.

"Not quite…." Zoro started, he looked up at the ceiling with concern, trying to find the right words. "So, as you know, I'm a thief."

"No shit. What the hell does that have to do with anything? Quit dodging the subject." Sanji pushed himself up, grimacing as he pulled his legs towards himself and slung them over the edge of the bed.

"I'll get to that." Zoro promised. "I'm a little more than a thief though."

"Tch, thinking highly of ourselves are we?" Sanji sniggered.

"Shut it curly." Zoro rubbed the palms of his hands together awkwardly, still searching for the right words. "You're going to think this is so fucking crazy, so it'll be easier to just show you. Can you walk?"

"Yeah." Sanji slowly forced himself up, his center of gravity feeling off as pain pooled in his gut, he took a trembling step forward. Zoro stood and offered a shoulder that Sanji took grudgingly as he was led towards a large curtain concealed window. Each uncertain step created unpleasant little shots of pain, but he kept moving forward across the room.

"Right now, we're in the outskirts of downtown, beneath a large factory."

"Why the fuck would you take me here?!" Sanji balked, trying to push off of Zoro, who in return tightened his grip on Sanji. Keeping Sanji in place, Zoro tugged open the bland curtains and light illuminated their faces, Sanji felt his jaw drop.

"We're not the only ones down here."

They were looking down into a canyon, filled with layers upon layers on the sides with shops and homes. Large magnificent bridges spanned the across the gaps, reaching connecting gardens and there was the people; they were everywhere, walking across the bridges, trading at markets. Some appeared mostly normal, others were far from it. Bright and bold lanterns hung everywhere, looking light sunshine itself despite the fact that a dark ceiling completely covered the entire area. This place was thriving, it was alive and breathtaking.

"Where the hell are we?" Whispered Sanji.

"The City of Thieves." Sanji took a slight step back from the window, unable to take it all in.

"Just… What the fuck?" Zoro gently guided back to the bed, making him sit down in his stupor. "How is this even possible?"

"I don't know the history of the place or how it was made, but I do know that it's nearly impossible to discover without someone bringing you." Zoro sat back down in his own chair. "This is a city made of organized crime, there are other places like this in the country, hell even around the world. This is my home."

"And you took me here why?"

"It's honestly the safest place for you right now." Zoro scratched at the back of his head. "Oh, and I probably should have mentioned this earlier, uh, you're technically a registered thief now…"

"I'M A WHAT?"

"Keep it down will you! It was the only way I could get you in, only thieves are allowed in the city. Each time you come back to the city, you have to bring something stolen with you, kind of like a membership payment." Zoro explained quickly. "When I first met you, I was trying to get back here after a botched robbery, I was going to use your wallet to get in. But that kinda didn't go as planned…"

Sanji snorted. "You got that right."

"Perona and Mihawk were my partners in the robbery, but something went wrong, I think someone tipped off the cops or something like that. I disappeared for a week after that, Mihawk was pretty pissed that I didn't contact them at all. Those two tracked me down to see if I managed to make off with anything. I kind of expected it but wasn't looking forward to it. What I wasn't expecting was for you to have a hit on you."

"Are you going to tell me what that shit means or are you just going to leave me hanging forever."

"I'm getting to that! Just gimme a sec, okay? I'm bad with words." Zoro huffed. "There are different kinds of thieves, as you can imagine. Some just steal for their own account, while others are paid to do so for someone else; the second kind goes after hits. Anything can have a hit on it, from money to cars… Even people." A light switched on in Sanji's head.

"Are you telling me, those guys were hired to kidnap me?" He screeched. "Why?!"

Zoro shrugged. "Human trafficking kind of frowned upon around here, but it still happens. I can't say why someone is after you specifically, but you're definitely worth a price to someone."

Sanji leaned back in the bed, conflicted feelings rising in his chest. The room was suddenly stifling, too hot and decreasing in size. He took a shaking hand and settled it against his racing heart trying to slow the thunderous beating.

"I… I don't even know what to say."

"It can be a lot to take in. I remember the first time I came here…" Zoro nodded solemnly.

"Why did you take me here?" Sanji asked in a small voice.

"I already answered that, because they could have-" Sanji shook his head.

"Yeah yeah, I know that. I mean, why'd you bother? Why do you care so much to go through all this trouble?"

"Repaying a debt I suppose." The green haired man finally answered after a pause.

"Okay… Then how did you get me in? I thought you said only thieves get in, but I haven't stolen anything." Zoro picked up the chair he'd been sitting in and placed it closer to the bed.

"That's not important right now." He said hastily. "What does matter, is what to do next. You know you can't go home, right?"

Sanji swallowed thickly and nodded. He licked his dry lips, thinking back to Zeff and the restaurant. It would probably be a bad idea to contact them; Sanji didn't really understand this world, but he could use his own logic to come to the conclusion that he wasn't going back to his old life anytime soon. The thought alone threatened to drag tears to his eyes and his throat tightened slightly.

"So, do you have some grand master plan, moss head?" Sanji finally asked, mentally gathering himself. Zoro gave a familiar toothy grin.

"No… But I know someone who can help us make one."


	3. Meet Mr. Pink

When Chopper returned and saw Sanji trying to make his way out the door with Zoro, the little guy had been nothing short of a ball of complete and absolute fury.

Sanji found himself on house arrest for two more days, kept put in that tiny little office. The sheets of the bed turned from soft and welcoming to itchy and cold. The air in the room was stagnant. Zoro had left the day Sanji woke up to go meet with 'The Witch', as the thief had called her. Leaving Sanji with little company.

"That just can't be possible."

"Well, that's just how it is." Chopper replied, filing a large stack of papers away. Sanji drummed his fingers impatiently on his chest.

"You can't just be born with a blue nose, there has to be some explanation, some kind of genetic mutation or whatever." He reasoned. Chopper wrinkled his nose and sighed.

"You have no idea how many times I've been over this with people. There seriously isn't any explanation, it just is."

"Everything has an explanation…" Sanji mused quietly, twirling tufts of his blond hair in between his long fingers while he listened to the muffled sounds of the bustling city outside.

He knew he should be more shocked and in complete disbelief, but for some reason, he found all of this easy to swallow. A world made and run by thieves, an underground city hidden from the rest of the world.

Chopper had explained to Sanji that even though the city was ungoverned and essentially a free market, there was a binding set of rules that were not to be broken: doing so made you an outcast, you were banished from the city. Apparently not every city had them, making this an ideal place.

Though the rules were odd, they seemed to make sense in their own weird logical way.

For example, anything was game to be stolen. Except in the city. It was a city without robbery, even though it was made up of thieves.

The inter-workings of this bizarre place were not much of Sanji's concern, but there was one thing that had been plaguing Sanji's mind for the past few days: how he was allowed in the city.

"Only thieves are let in here right?" Said Sanji. Chopper looked up from some papers he was writing on.

"Well yes, that's why it is a city of thieves."

"Zoro said every time you return, you have to present something you've stolen, like proof that you're still a thief."

"That's correct. There are hired guards that wait just inside every entrance. You show them what you stole and they let you in." Chopper replied. "I actually have a friend who works occasionally as a guard. Funny guy, he loves to tell stories of the stuff people bring in. Some thieves take it very seriously, others not so much."

"What kind of things do people normally bring in?"

"Oh simple stuff, wallets, a necklace, a purse, a candy bar… Usually it's just little tokens." Chopper explained. "Though some people turn it into a joke. That friend of mine, he's seen it all. One time, he said a guy brought in a stolen tiger from the zoo! Can you believe that?"

"That's crazy!" Sanji laughed, regretting the action slightly as pain seized his sides. He picked at the bandages with disinterest, looking back up to Chopper. "What kind of things do you normally bring in?"

The doctor waved his hand. "I try not to take things that will be missed. A dollar from a tip jar, a jacket left at a table at a restaurant. Little things. I'm not much of a thief."

"And yet you live in thief city." Sanji mused, causing Chopper to give a small chuckle. "Hey, do you know what Zoro said I stole?"

Chopper's brows furrowed and his eyes glanced to the side, he placed a hand at his chin as he thought.

"No…. I don't think he ever mentioned it."

"Could he have just made it up?" Sanji asked. Chopper's eyes grew wide.

"Oh no, he would be in so much trouble it he did that! No, it had to be something you actually stole, and it would have to be worth it too: first time entrance, it needs to show you're more than a petty thief on the streets."

"But I didn't steal anything!"

Sanji flopped back down against his pillow, giving a slight cough as the air was forced out of his lungs, which reminded him of how much he wanted a smoke. He pulled out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and placed it in his mouth. It was a little arrangement he had with the young doctor: he wasn't allowed to actually smoke, but he was allowed to just hold it in his mouth.

He chewed on the filter, rolling the cig back and forth with his tongue. It was comforting, but he missed the calming sensation actual nicotine and smoke gave him.

Later that afternoon, Chopper had to check on Sanji's wound. It was the first time he was actually going to see the damage.

When Chopper had changed the dressings the previous day, Sanji held a hand over his eyes. He wasn't ready to see it, and was afraid the scar would make things suddenly too real and send him into a panic attack.

"You ready?" Chopper asked quietly, scissors in his hand. Taking a deep breath, Sanji nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. He worked to steady his trembling hands as Chopper snipped the soft cotton and began to slowly pull away the bandages.

The area was horribly bruised, a mural of purples and ugly yellows against pale skin that hurt as bad as it looked. The wound itself was gnarled and pink, but the stiches were elegant and effective, holding the aching hole closed.

Sanji reached out and just ghosted a fingers against the bullet entrance, grazing one of the black stiches. His body reacted angrily, making him flinch his hand back, before returning to rub slightly at the edge of the bruising.

"It's actually not that bad." Chopper said as he began to apply a cold antiseptic to the stiches, making Sanji shudder and recoil. "You're lucky the bullet didn't fragment, there's no shrapnel can cause a lot of damage too."

Sanji just hummed in response, still in awe of the sight on his belly, the hole a few inches and to the right of his navel.

"You know Zoro saved you, right?" Chopper said hastily, like he just pulled the comment from the clouds.

"What?" Sanji replied dumbly, looking up from the scarred tissue.

"I know it probably feels like Zoro kidnapped you… And this is all really crazy… But he saved your life. Those men who shot you would have taken you away, and who knows what would have happened to you." Chopper said softly, finishing applying some kind of salve to the stiches. "He stopped you from bleeding out too. It wasn't necessarily a short trip here, he had to have given you constant attention to make sure you didn't die."

"You're right about all of this being really crazy, but I kind of understand."

"So…. You're not mad at Zoro?" Chopper offered meekly.

"Mad?"

"I was just talking with him earlier, he was saying how he was worried about you being mad and blaming him and stuff. He's a good person, I didn't want you to think… Please don't tell him!"

Chopper pulled out a long strip of bandages from a drawer and began reapplying them to the wound.

"I have no idea what kind of person he is, I barely know him. But I don't blame him for what happened, it wasn't related to him." Sanji mauled the filter of a new cigarette, thinking back to the moss head. He'd never in his wildest dreams imagined that taking home the unconscious pick pocket in an alley would have led to this. Maybe he should have followed Law's advice.

"I should thank you, by the way." Chopper said happily, putting the finishing touches on the bandages. "You helped prevent a really serious infection in his eye, gave him shelter and food in a storm. Zoro… Tends to be more of a loner, he avoids help when he can."

"You know about all that?" Sanji asked cautiously, reclining back in his bed. Chopper nodded.

"Zoro told me about it." Chopper bit his lip for a moment then continued. "He's not… Accustomed to kindness like that. It means a lot to him."

"Oh." Was all Sanji could say, uncertain about how that made him feel. He laced his fingers, tracing circles on his palms with his thumbs. He wasn't used to acts of kindness being recognized, he preferred they go unnoticed.

An awkward silence fell over the room. Chopper messed with random reports on his desk anxiously. Sanji bit down on the filter of the abused unlit cig and pretended he was actually smoking it.

Ending the stillness, the office door was ungracefully flung open and a young man paraded in.

"Heyyyyy Chopper! So I kinda cut me knee and if you could check it out that'd be really cool!" He yelled. The teen's presence was demanding but the attention was easily given, there was something that just radiated off the cheerful kid that was strangely welcoming. He flopped down into a chair, a massive grin plastered on his face despite the waterfall of blood streaming down his right leg.

"Luffy! You better not have been climbing on the West Bridge again!" Chopper exclaimed, quickly going to Luffy's side

"Nah, Ace dared me to climb up to his apartment window and I fell half way up!"

"THAT'S JUST AS BAD!" The young doctor screeched, quickly washing away the blood and working to clot the cut. Luffy just laughed and laughed until Sanji caught his attention. The boy tilted his head to the side, lips in a pout.

"Who're you?"

"I'm Sanji." Luffy's face completely lit up, he jumped to his feet despite Chopper's complaints.

"OH IT'S YOU! You're that guy Zoro brought back!" He pointed a finger accusingly at Sanji, jumping over to him. "He said you're a cook, right? Right?"

"Uh, yeah I am-"

"Oh man this is so awesome! Chopper, is Sanji all better now?"

"I suppose most of the wound is healed-"

"Sanji you're coming over to my house tonight and you're making everyone dinner. Chopper you're invited too!" Chopper smacked Luffy on the top of his hat wearing head.

"That's too strenuous of work from him right now!"

"Actually, I think I'll be fine. I'd really like to get back into the kitchen, you know, find something that feels a little normal." Sanji cut in quickly, standing up to prove that he indeed okay. "I won't do anything to difficult, I promise."

"Yosh, that settles it! Let's go Sanji!" Luffy spun on heel to get to the door, only to be caught by Chopper and tossed back into his chair. Chopper was surprisingly strong for such a little guy.

"I haven't even covered your cut yet you moron!"

The moment Luffy was bandaged up he ready to go, pulling on Sanji's arm to try to lead him. Sanji dug in his heels, not wanting to leave the office half naked. Luffy shrugged and said no one would care, they could pick up some clothes for Sanji on the way to Luffy's home, since Sanji's clothes were stained with blood.

Luffy finally managed to pull a reluctant Sanji out the door and into the city. The bouncing boy was right, no one batted an eye at Sanji's disgruntled appearance.

There were no cars, just simple yet clean streets full of people walking or bicycling around. The city was warm despite being underground, the air wasn't even that stale: it reminded Sanji of a gigantic shopping mall.

"So what kinda clothes do you wanna get?" Luffy asked offhandedly as they strolled down the road.

"I normally wear dress shirts and ties, but I doubt we'll find anything like-"

"Oh like those?" Luffy asked happily, grabbing Sanji's by the crook of his elbow and dragging him over to a shop with sharply dressed mannequins in the display. Before he knew what was happening Sanji was pulled into the store.

Sanji looked at each outfit in disbelief, they looked like they were plucked right out of Armani's closet in Italy, the prices reflecting them accordingly.

"L-Luffy I can't afford this!" Luffy turned his attention from changing the mannequin's poses to Sanji.

"It's cool, I got it: it can be payment for tonight!"

Sanji's mouth fell open slightly, there was no way this kid could afford any of this.

"Oh oh Sanji you should get this one!" Luffy thrust a shirt into his face, his vision blurred with a mass of pink. The shirt was a soft pink, the cut crisp and clean.

"Pink?" He asked critically. Sanji wouldn't say he disliked the color, but he'd never consciously kept the color in his wardrobe.

"Yes yes yes. Ah, a pink tie too!" Luffy began rummaging through a rack of nice silk ties. Sanji shrugged, he didn't mind that much, after all Luffy was buying for him.

The shop keeper eyed Sanji up and down, eyes raised skeptically. Luffy looked at the price tag and then jammed his hand into his shorts pocket, pulling out one of the thickest wads of cash Sanji had ever seen. The grinning boy thumbed through several hundreds before tossing the cash onto the counter.

Luffy crammed the money back into his pocket as he ushered Sanji into a back room to get changed. The shirt fit almost perfectly, slipping onto Sanji's lean figure nicely, and he couldn't help think that the pink made his hair appear a pleasant golden shade.

He walked out of the small dressing room still knotting his tie, taking more confident steps now that he was fully clothed. Sanji rolled up the sleeved to his elbows and smoothed imaginary wrinkles.

"You look perfect! Yosh this is going to be so freakin sweet!" Luffy yelled. Sanji quirked an eyebrow at that, but let it be, and continued to follow the energetic boy up to a large metal bridge, long and elegant suspensions hung above.

"So, what did you have in mind for dinner?" Sanji asked. Luffy's eyes grew wide with his smile.

"Meat. All kinds of meat."

"Just meat? That's not much of a meal." Sanji remarked. "I take it that you really really like meat." He joked. Luffy nodded vigorously.

"Hell yeah, meat is the best!"

"Well then, would you mind taking me to a store or market? I'll be needing to buy some ingredients, unless you have them all at home. Oh, and how many am I cooking for tonight?" Sanji stuck his hands in his pocket, admiring the size of the square they just walked onto.

"Uhhh…. Let's see, I texted Nami, Usopp, aaaand…." Luffy continued on in his head, counting on his fingers as he mouthed each name to himself. "Seven! Seven people. Wait, eight including me!"

The square opened up into an impressive market, carts lined the area selling everything from fruit to bread to rich deserts to the most bizarre looking fish Sanji had ever seen.

"So everyone here is a thief?"

"Duh. It's the city of thieves." They passed a cart with glistening red apples, each stacked and aligned faultlessly, the sweet aroma of the fruit lingered in the area. Sanji turned his attention to an approaching cart filled with stands of lovely looking cuts and whole meats.

"So all these vendors are thieves. Are their goods stolen?"

"Eh, some of them are. Some are just thieves on the side to being farmers or bakers and just liked the market here better than the outside world." Sanji inspected several large rack before motioning to the owner that he'd be taking two, pointing to the most tender and fine looking. As the man pulled down Sanji's choices, Sanji noticed that the man was missing a finger. Sanji couldn't help but wonder if it was a workplace accident or if it was related to his work as a thief.

It amazed Sanji how comfortable he was in this world. Here he was, completely surrounded by criminals, some of the riff raff of society. Well, now that he thought about it, Sanji was technically one of them now.

He stopped by several other stands, picking up ingredients to make a kick ass stew. Each time, Luffy would pull out that ridiculous wad of cash and picked up the groceries. People seemed to know who Luffy was, too; they coward oh so slightly away from his gaze and the money that he placed down.

As they walked, Sanji's belly began to ache a bit, the shifting from each step was agitating but nothing beyond uncomfortable. It was more of a constant reminder that Sanji had a whole blown through him, which was a weird thought to be carrying around with you.

The lights around them actually began to dim, creating a dusky atmosphere in the city. Some street lights remained on, the ceiling began to disappear, giving the illusion of a night sky. The pair approached a neighborhood setting, more homes and less shops.

Luffy rambled about a cool monster vs movie he had watched yesterday as they climbed several flights of stairs: Sanji's pace was much slower than Luffy's, having to stop once or twice to catch his breath. At the top of the stairs, they reached stretch of concrete that walked along the homes to their right and displayed the glimmering lights of the city life below.

"Alright, this is it!" Luffy suddenly exclaimed, interrupting his own story, extending his arms skyward to display the front of the white house before them. The home was built into the side of the canyon, like many of the buildings in the city, most of the house was tucked away. Over the top of the large front door, a smiling wooden ram's head looked down on them.

After shoving a rusted looking key into the door lock, Luffy kicked open the door happily.

"Shoe's off, Usopp's rule not mine." Sanji did as he was told, toeing off his nice black dress shoes while Luffy flung off his sandals. "GUYS I'M HOOOOOOME."

The place was relatively clean, it had a certain homey warmth that drew you in, Sanji enjoyed the feeling of the smooth hard wood floors beneath his feet. He could hear conversation and laughter down the hallway, a few greetings aimed Luffy's way.

The hallway opened up into a spacious carpeted living room, a small fire burning in a cobblestone fireplace, a large potted orange tree rested in the corner. Several other people were already in the room, sitting on the cozy looking couches, one of whom Sanji knew: the damn moss head. Luffy raised his hands to his mouth to announce,

"Guys, meet Mr. Pink!"


	4. Welcome to the Crew

_“Guys, meet Mr. Pink!”_

            Everyone sitting in the room simultaneously groaned.

“Mr. what now?” Sanji stuttered, looking down at his shirt and suddenly feeling like he’d been tricked.

            “Luffy, come on now, give it a rest.” Said one of the men sitting on the couch, he had crazy curled black hair and a strangely long nose, he rested an arm over the edge of the furniture.

            “No!”

            “The names don’t work, stupid. We know everyone here. The whole point of code names is to remain anonymous to each other.” Piped a fiery red head next to the first man.

            “It doesn’t matter, it sounds cool!” Luffy squawked. “Anyway, MR PINK here is going to make up dinner!”

            “Shit cook’s making us stuff?” Zoro asked from his spot on a plush chair, though his expression was annoyed, the happy undertone in his voice gave away his true feelings towards Sanji’s cooking.

            “Shut the hell up Marimo, you fucking loved my cooking back at my place.”

            “You two know each other?” The woman asked curiously, shifting in her spot to get a better look at Sanji.

            “Yeah they do! This is Sanji, he’s the guy that got shot and Zoro brought back here.”

            “Wait, _you’re_ Sanji?” Sanji shuffled uncomfortably in place.

            “Ummm, yes?”

            “I’ve heard lot’s about you, Sanji. I’m looking forward to getting to know you a little better. I’m Nami, by the way.” She purred.

            “No, you’re Miss Orange!”

            The two continued to squabble, completely forgetting about Sanji standing there. Sanji watched Zoro sigh and stand, lean down to pick up the groceries that Luffy had put down, and gestured with his head for Sanji to follow him.

            They entered a small kitchen through a swing door, still able to see everyone in the living room from the large cut out in the wall that practically connected the two rooms. He could see Nami hitting Luffy upside his head.

            “So you live here?” Sanji asked casually as he unpacked the bags that Zoro set down on the marble counter. “Hey, where are the pots at?”

            “They’re up here.” Zoro replied, reaching down the pop open a cupboard door. “I’m here more often than not, but I have my own place.”

            Sanji gently poured water into a large copper colored pot and heaved it on the stove, his stiches complaining from the strain. After turning on the burner he began selecting herbs to toss into the water, a pinch of salt here and there. He easily found a cutting board, and after selecting the correct knife, he quickly diced and chopped the vegetables. Zoro busied himself with acquiring a beer from the fridge.

            “Do you think Luffy would mind me smoking in here?”

            Zoro shrugged. “Just open a window and I don’t think he’ll care, his brother smokes all the time here.”

            Not needing to ask twice Sanji expertly pulled out a cigarette and lit it with the stove burner, happily taking a drag as he popped open a window above the sink, blowing the smoke with a sigh. As he greedily pulled in more smoke into his lungs, he looked at the city below, the trails of his smoke lazily drifting into the canyon before disappearing completely.

            “You’re taking to all this really well.” Sanji picked his head up, stopping his work with cutting and perfecting cuts of meat on his cutting board, looking back at Zoro who was leaning against the counter.

            “Huh?”

            “You know, you’re not freaking out.” Zoro made a gesture with his beer. “I mean, this is a lot to take in, and you’re adjusting really quickly.”

            Sanji shrugged a shoulder, picking up the little chunks of meat to place them in a bowl of flour.

            “It’s hard to question when it’s all there in front of me, I can’t really deny anything you’ve said.” He reasoned, adjusting the heat of his pot. “So how do you know these guys?”

            Zoro cast a glance into the living room, watching the bubbly laughter leave Luffy as Usopp told some of his ridiculous heist stories. While Sanji stirred the pot with a wooden spoon, Zoro played with the condensation on his bottle with his thumb.

            “I got into some trouble, Luffy helped me out.” Zoro said shortly. “Since then, whenever he needs people for a job, he usually comes to me first.”

            “What kind of trouble?”

            “Trouble.” Zoro replied curtly, keeping his eyes trained on his bottle. Sanji let the topic go, breathing out a cloud of smoke from his nose.

            While Sanji worked, Zoro stood quiet, creating an odd comfortable silence in the kitchen.

            Though Sanji had some questions that he would have loved to bring up, they all caught in his throat, and he just couldn’t bring himself to voice them. Besides, he didn’t think Zoro was really in the mood to answer anything, let alone talk: the larger man was clearly the ‘silent type’.

            Every so often, Sanji could see Zoro sparring a glance at him out of the corner of his eye. With his back to the other man, Sanji could feel could feel Zoro’s gaze digging into his shoulder blades.

            Filling several bowls full of the rich and savory stew he’d created, he handed some of the dishes to the silent pick pocket and walked into the living room, easily finding the already set dining table. To his surprise, three more people had shown up.

            “Dinner’s ready.” Sanji called after clearing his throat, following behind the crowd of eager people to the table.

            “Sanji how are you doing that?” Nami asked incredulously as Sanji bent down to place a bowl in front of Usopp.

            “Doing what?” He asked, standing up straight. Nami pointed to the top of his head.

            “How’re you balancing that?!”

            “Huh?” Sanji looked up, as if he could see the top of his head. After placing another bowl on the table he used his free hand to pick up the bowl off his head and balanced it on his fingertips. “I just have really good balance I suppose.”

            “HOLY COW SHANJI THITH ISH SHO GOOD!” Luffy exclaimed with a mouth full, continuing to shovel stew into his mouth as he talked. Sanji grimaced at the sight.

            “Don’t choke on my food, you shitty bastard!”

            Sanji found himself a spot at the giant table at the corner spot next to a lovely women with sleek black hair. She gave him a simple but kind nod as he sat down.

            “Good evening.” She greeted in a smooth alto voice with a small smile, Sanji returned the nod gracefully. “I’m afraid my husband and I had been running a bit late to this little get together, so I’ve missed introductions. My name is Robin. Ah, or should I say Mrs. Purple.”

            “Luffy gave you a code name too? I’m Sanji, or Mr. Pink.” Sanji gave a slight grimace at his code name.

            “Mr. Pink…” She eyed his attire before returning to his eyes. “Suiting.”

            Sanji could feel his cheeks heating up, he turned his face away in embarrassment.

            “Oi cook, what’s this green plant in here? It tastes like shit.” Zoro called from across the table.

            “It’s parsley you shitty Neanderthal. You don’t have to eat it, it’s just there flavoring: eat it with something else and it’ll be masked.” He snapped, just starting to dig into his own bowl.

            “I don’t get what you’re complaining about Zoro, it’s all tasty!” Luffy said as his grabby hands began to wander, getting slapped away on more than one occasion. “But anyways, time to get to business!”

            “Business?” Sanji questioned allowed, searching his table mate’s faces for an explanation.

            “First off, thanks for the meal Sanji!” Luffy cheered, accompanied by a few ‘here here!’s. “And welcome to the crew!”

            “Curly brow’s in the crew now?” Zoro asked, his brows drawn up in surprise.

            “What crew? I didn’t sign up for anything.” Sanji declared, pointing his fork accusingly at Luffy. Luffy nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “I’ve already decided, Sanji is now a part of the crew!”

            “Again, what crew?” Sanji repeated. Usopp leaned in, resting his arms on the table top.

            “Everyone here is a member of Luffy’s crew: united thieves. It’s a common thing around here, after all, more heads are better than one. It’s kind of like an alliance under one leader.” Usopp vaguely explained.

            “And I’m now… A part of it?”

            “Guess so.” Usopp shrugged.

            “But I… I’m not a thief! Not really at least.” Sanji balked. The large man blue haired Sanji had come to learn as Franky, Robin’s husband, spoke up from the other end of the table.

            “Don’t sweat it, bro. Stealing isn’t so hard, you’ll get the hang of it!” Franky said as he flashed a wide grin. Sanji slouched for a moment for regaining his composure, that wasn’t quite what he had meant but oh well, at least everyone was supportive.

            “I had been talking to Zoro about your situation earlier, about how you have a hit on your head.” Nami began, some murmurs of surprise rose around the table. “Its safest for you to be in a crew like ours, actually. It’ll protect you for now, until you find out who issued the hit.”

            Sanji felt himself slump a little in his chair, he mused with his hair for an awkward moment before sitting up. He felt his eyes wander to the green haired pit pocket, whose dark eyes were once again watching him.

            “We have a room for you and everything! You only have to steal a little bit, you can be like our cook or something!” Luffy yelled enthusiastically, practically bouncing in his seat in excitement at the mere idea.

            “Chef.” Sanji corrected quietly. “I suppose I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

            Luffy raised his glass happily, the contents sloshing around and droplets spilling out onto the table top.

            “To our new crew member! Sanji, Mr. Pink!” He declared. Everyone around the table raised their own classes in a similar fashion, laughing and cheering before taking a heavy swallow.

            “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I’ve got another announcement!” Luffy called, reaching to Usopp’s plate as he did.

            “Quit it Luffy!” Usopp said as he smacked away Luffy’s hand. “What’s this announcement? I thought we’re here for Sanji?”

            “Well yeah, but I’ve got another thing. We’re going to Vegas!”

            “We’re what?” Nami asked, tapping her fork against her plate in a quiet but irritated manner.

            “I’ve decided we’re entering the Great Heist!” Several jaws dropped around the table. Sanji sat back in confusion, trying to gage the situation from everyone’s expressions, but he just couldn’t understand what was going on.

            “Y-you’re sure you wanna do that, Luffy?” Chopper asked hesitantly. Luffy nodded.

            “For sure. This is our year guys. I know it.”

            Conversation and debate followed, but Sanji understood none of it. While some were enthusiastic at the idea, others were reluctant. This ‘Great Heist’ thing had to be a big deal. It was clearly some kind of competition but that was all Sanji could understand.

            Sanji stood and began collecting dishes as crew members began to disperse for the night each giving him a word of thanks for the meal as they left. He had a large mountain of bubbles forming in the sink as Zoro walked into the kitchen, snatching up a clean rag of a rack and standing next to Sanji.

            “Though you could use some help…” Zoro muttered.

            “So what is this ‘Great Heist’ thing? Here you go.” He asked while handing a clean dish to the awaiting hands of Zoro.

            “Every five years, this competition takes place to determine ‘King of the Thieves’, it’s a big position to have that comes with a lot of power. Basically, whoever pulls off the biggest heist by the end of the competition wins the title.”

            “Ah. Here, Zoro.”

            “It gets pretty dangerous and crazy, as you can imagine.” Zoro said as he thoroughly cleaned the plate in his hands. The warm water from the sink was beginning to make Sanji’s fingers prune.

            “Why are we going to Vegas?”

            “That’s where the sign up is. The thing starts in a few weeks from now, so we have to get there soon.” Zoro replied easily, placing a dry plate in the slowly growing pile.

            “Here Zoro. Do you know when we leave?” Sanji questioned, blowing his bangs out of his eyes as he looked down into the sink, washing the last dish.

            “Mmm, a day or so.”

            “Here you go.” He said, handing the last dish to the pick pocket.

            “You know you don’t have to say that each time you hand me a dish.” Zoro quipped.

            “Sure I don’t.”

            Zoro gave Sanji a playful push that was more of a warning. Sanji would have risen to the bait if he didn’t feel so tired, his feet ached and his abdomen was softly throbbing, his eyelids getting harder to hold up. He was very much ready for bed.

            “Hey so where do I sleep?”

            Zoro nodded for Sanji to follow him, out the kitchen and up a set of stairs, into a room at the right of the hallway. Inside was two cot styled beds in a simple room, two walk in closets on either side of the room.

            “This bed is mine.” Zoro explained, gesturing lazily to the bed on the right then pointed to the left. “That one is yours now.”

            The bed was already made with soft blue cotton sheets, Sanji pressed down to find the mattress was pleasantly firm, bed springs creaking slightly against the force.

            “Does everyone share a room?”

            “Yeah, but not everyone is here all the time, and so they all share a bigger room.”

            Sanji nodded. “Well I’m going to sleep, I’m fucking tired as shit.”

            “Same.” The thief pulled at the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal that massive scar on his chest. After pausing to gaze at the sight of the mark, Sanji did the same with his new shirt, which he neatly hung up in his new closet. It was strange looking into the bare closet; it really hit Sanji that he was essentially starting a new life here.

            Sanji sat down on his bed and placed his head in his hands, rubbing harsh circles into his eyes until he saw colors.

            He slid into bed easily, as soon as he laid down his limbs reminded him how tired they were, they rested heavily on the bed. He looked up at the dark ceiling, his eyelids already beginning to droop with exhaustion. Across the room, he could hear the heavy snores coming from Zoro’s bed, the rhythmic sound somehow comforting. Sleep soon took Sanji into its arms, his thoughts drifting away into dreamless slumber.

           

            Sanji stood in line to board the plane, playing with the ticket in his hand, shuffling his feet impatiently against the tackily patterned airport carpet.

            Eventually, he made it to his seat, where he found the green haired pick pocket already waiting there, getting his seat ready for a long nap. After placing his heavy carry on away, he slunk into his spot, mindlessly rubbing at his sore stiches that were beginning to itch.

            “Ever been to Vegas?” Zoro asked beside him.

            “Nope, my first time.”

            “The touristy area that everyone goes to is alright, if you have money.” Zoro rubbed at the back of his neck lazily, breaking into a jaw busting yawn. “The real fun is where we’re going.”

            “Oh yeah? What should I be expecting?” Sanji asked playfully, stretching into his seat.

            “You’ll see.” Zoro answered his a toothy smirk. “But I think you’ll like it. I think you’ll like being a thief more than you know.”

            “Is that so?” Sanji muttered to himself. Zoro was already reclining into his seat, his functioning eye shut. He still had the cotton bandage covering his battered eye, the edges of the forming scar just peeking out from underneath.

            As the plane took off, Zoro began to snore softly, already in deep sleep. The cabin tilted slightly as they gained altitude, and the sleeping thief’s head slid into Sanji’s shoulder. He glanced down at the napping man, his eyes following the strong line of the man’s jaw down to his neck and further to his chest where Sanji could see the very tip of that jagged scar hiding underneath the plain shirt the man wore.

            Zoro was a peculiar man, that was the first thought that came into Sanji’s mind. But for some reason, Sanji liked it. Most people drove Sanji insane, and Zoro did too, but the other man did it in a way that Sanji almost liked. It was strange, he didn’t know how to feel about him.

            Sanji readjusted himself, shrugging his shoulders slightly, rolling Zoro’s head further into his chest. He noticed the slight trail of dribble of drool going from Zoro’s mouth to his shirt and grimaced, using his free arm to try to push the other man’s head away.

            The moss head just came right back, and despite Sanji’s efforts, stayed pressed against him. Sanji sighed and lowered himself further into his seat. This was going to be a long flight.

 

 

 

 


End file.
